Shattered Mirror
by FanWriterWV
Summary: Sam Beckett has finally come home. One-shot.


_**Shattered Mirror**_

_Washington, D.C., Present Day_

Al got the call at 2:45 A.M. local time. When Beth woke up and saw him quickly getting dressed, she simply said:

"He's back, isn't he?"

"That's what Gushie says." Al looked at her. "Honey, I'm sorry this is happening so damn early…"

"Sam was your friend," she replied. "Go."

Al spent the flight to New Mexico trying to understand exactly what it was that Ziggy's longtime programmer had said. Sam was back, in the present, after having been gone for nearly a decade. But he wasn't in the Imaging Chamber. That meant he was somewhere out there, with his Swiss-cheesed brain, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do and waiting for him to show up. But Al had always had to do that as a hologram. _Won't seeing me in the flesh give him a kick in the head, _Al thought.

The project hadn't changed a great deal in the few years since he'd last been here. Ziggy had never gone offline, being used to make periodic checks to see if Sam had reappeared since Leaping out of Cokeburg, Pennsylvania. Gushie and Verbena Beeks had stayed on board, too, but Donna wasn't there. Al had been hoping she would be-she must have gotten the news by now-but the government had declared Sam dead after he'd been missing for three years and she'd been trying to convince herself to accept that. Except now he was back…

"What's going on, Gushie?" Al asked as he strode purposefully into the Project's Command Center.

"Nothing's changed, Admiral-I mean, Mr. Secretary," Gushie replied, remembering that Al was now Secretary of the Navy. "Ziggy insists that Sam is here, in 2009. But we can't get a lock on him."

"Talk to me, Ziggy," Al gently but firmly insisted. "You were able to get a lock on Sam when he was 30,000 feet in the air before; what's the problem now?"

"Since Doctor Beckett is now in the present, there is no physical aura for me to lock onto," the computer calmly replied. "As you will recall, he always assumed the identity of those he Leaped into, except in those rare cases where he Leaped into himself as he did in Cokeburg, Pennsylvania in 1953 and in Indiana in 1969."

"So you're saying Sam is here as himself?" Al sighed. "Okay, we'll have to do this the old-fashioned way…since I got called at 2:45 A.M. Eastern time that means he Leaped a little over three hours ago. If he's here as himself, he might try to get in touch with us once he realizes where and when he is…"

"We've thought about that, Mr. Secretary, but so far we haven't heard anything," Gushie said. "It's really strange, if you ask me."

"There's the possibility that Leaping back to the present could have caused severe mental trauma," Verbena pointed out. "We've already sent out inquiries to hospitals in the Southwestern United States…"

"Why just the Southwest?" Al asked.

"The original retrieval program was designed to bring Doctor Beckett to his point of origin," Ziggy explained. "However, since we have not been able to modify the program for corrections, it is logical to assume that Doctor Beckett has returned within a three hundred to five hundred mile radius of his original point of departure."

"Well, at least that narrows it down somewhat." Al nodded. "Okay, everybody, let's get to work. We've got an old friend to find…"

_Somewhere outside of Phoenix, Arizona:_

"Sam. Samuel? Sammy? No, just plain old Sam. Sam…Buckner? Nah; that doesn't sound right…"

The migrant worker who was sitting next to the disheveled American as they rode in the back of a pickup truck shook his head. "You're really confused, aren't you, Senor?"

The man shook his head. "It's my name, dammit," he replied. He looked at his reflection in the truck's side view mirror. "Sam," he mouthed as he watched his face react. He sighed and looked down at the floorboards. "I wasn't here before," he muttered. "I remember being in the bar…and that damn bartender…" His companion nodded; this he understood. "I know who I am," he repeated. "Dammit…where have I been?"

_Stallion's Gate, New Mexico_

"We've found him!" Gushie cried as he ran into Al's office. "But…"

"But what?" Al demanded. "Where the hell is he?"

"He was picked up as part of an illegal immigration raid in Phoenix," Gooshie explained. "We just got the call from ICE. Their agents recognized him from the photo the Navy sent out for us. He's in a hospital."

"That's great news, Gushie." Al looked at a framed photo of himself and Sam in happier times, taken back when they were still building the Imaging Chamber. "OK…now give me the bad news."

"He's got amnesia," Gushie said. "His brain wasn't just Swiss-cheesed; either…he's got the real thing this time. Verbena is already on her way to Phoenix."

"He doesn't remember anything?" Al asked.

"Well, he apparently knows his first name. And he vaguely remembers being in Cokeburg, Pennsylvania, and a bartender there. But beyond that…nothing."

Al closed his eyes. So, Sam had been found. He was home-but not all the way. Not by a long shot. "OK, Gushie, I understand. I just wish…I was kind of hoping for a grand homecoming, you know?"

Gushie nodded. "We all were, Mr. Secretary."

_Phoenix, Arizona_

"Is it starting to come back to you yet?" Al asked.

Sam shrugged as he sat on the edge of his hospital bed. "Bits and pieces. I remember visiting Beth right before my last Leap…" he looked at his old friend. "Are the two of you…?"

"We've been married for nearly forty years now, thanks to what you did. I owe you that one big time, kid."

"Verbena's been telling me about some of the things that have been happening while I was gone," Sam replied. "Terrorist attacks in New York City and Washington…another war with Iraq…a black President…"

"Yeah, it's been a hell of a ride," Al agreed. "But not as big a ride as the one you've been on. Are you sure you don't remember anything about where you went after you left that nutty bartender behind?"

"He wasn't nutty," Sam countered. "He was…I don't know. Time, Fate, or something we've never even thought of. He told me I could Leap home whenever I wanted, but I told him I knew that I couldn't. So…I must have been somewhere, right?" Sam looked ruefully at Al. "And Ziggy says I never showed up in all those years?"

"Not a peep." Al stood up. "Well, I guess the first thing we gotta do is get you out of here. And then…"

"Al…" Sam paused. "Where's Donna? Why isn't she here with you?"

"I was kinda hoping you wouldn't remember that yet." Al looked sadly at him. "She didn't want to come. You see, the Government in its infinite stupidity declared you dead about three years after you disappeared." When he saw the look on Sam's face, he added: "She tried to wait for as long as she could, but when you didn't, you know, show up anywhere…"

Sam closed his eyes. "I guess I can't blame here. I still want to see her so much…but I don't want to be like a ghost come back to haunt her."

"It'll take time, Sam. But you always Leaped to set right what once went wrong, so maybe this is one more chance to do that. The big question is…are you home for good this time?"

Sam thought about it. The bartender _did _tell him that he could have gone home anytime he wanted to-and here he was. And he didn't feel the disconnect that he always felt when Leaping, or the nagging anticipation of the blue glow of the Leap itself.

"I think so," Sam said. "And this time…I'm here to stay."

THE END


End file.
